ickered
the blue brush of St. Elmo's fire.

"Heave away, heave away!" Dolores's voice rang out on the hubbub,
forcing obedience even in face of terror. The capstan went round to the
urge of a dozen pair of fear-stimulated arms; and fathom by fathom the
great cable came in dripping and glistening; fathom after fathom was
heaped on the deck, and still the schooner remained fast. And ever from
aloft came Stumpy's hail, reporting Milo's flare fast fading in the
distance.

"You can't do it! I knew it!" shouted Peters defiantly.

"Peace, sheep!" answered Dolores, slapping him upon the mouth. She stood
at the wheel, and no part of the vessel's situation escaped her. She had
yet a trump to play: a hazardous one, truly, but the big one. The big
fore and main sails swung and crashed idly at their sheets, filling the
air with the thunder of their flinging blocks. At each boom a seaman
stood, and each held the double block of a boom-tackle, waiting the word
that now came.

"Clap on those boom-tackles!" Dolores commanded, and four men flew to
each as it was hooked to the rigging. "Haul away! Boom the sails square
out!" The great sails filled with a crash as the gale took them on the
fore side, flinging them violently aback.

"You'll pluck the spars out of her!" screamed Peters, in a frenzy now as
his cherished masts whipped and cracked to the tremendous backward
strain. Dolores ignored the crazed man, but a scornful smile wreathed
about her lips, and her dark eyes gleamed. "Out with them!" she cried.
"More hands there! And heave, ho, heave away on the capstan! Burst thy
arms, bullies! Here comes Hanglip and his bold lads to help ye! Round
with her! Out with them! Heave, good bullies!"

The girl stood by the wheel, a splendid figure of matchless energy and
courage. Aloft the topmasts bent like whips; Stumpy's voice came down
in ever-increasing fear as his perch grew shakier; the great expanse of
canvas, which should have been treble-reefed even in a floating ship
going forward, tore at boom-tackles and earrings, tacks, and mast-hoops,
shaking the vessel to the keel and filling her with cataclysmic thunder.

"By the bones of Red Jabez, she comes!" roared Spotted Dog, peering over
the side. "Heave, lads, and never doubt the girl again! Fiends o'
Topheth! See her slide!"

The schooner shuddered from forefoot to sternpost; the big hawser
slipped in through the lead with gathering speed; the groaning masts
imparted an impulse to